


Strange Words

by writing0111



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Canon Related, F/M, Grant Ward Isn't Hydra, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Slow Build, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-08 20:37:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4319787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing0111/pseuds/writing0111
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Einstein said : "You can’t blame gravity for falling in love." But, since it all started with Jemma jumping out of a plane, gravity probably had a bigger role in their love than he'd believe. This was the first step of their story, but surely not the last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rubatosis

6\. Rubatosis: The unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.

She escaped from her nightmare just as they were about to hit the water, but being spared that feeling again didn’t really matter since she already lived it once, a couple of hours before. The shock of plunging into that endless blue pool, of the cold settling into her bones with the knowledge that she almost died only seconds ago, it was hauting her. She liked to think she would have been able to survive that on her own but really she was grateful for Grant being there. He saved her life with the anti-serum, kept her calm while they were waiting for the rescue team in the water and stayed with her until she felt well enough to go to her bunk to sleep. Clearly, that was a mistake. 

She was cured, the Chitauri virus was no more and yet, she still felt as if her body was containing too much energy. I t was only natural that she would relieve everything in her dreams. It was a miracle she was able to fall asleep in the first place with the level of adrenaline running through her blood as high as it was. Sitting down in her bunk, Jemma realized she was shaking like a leaf. She could feel her heart beat in her throat and she thought, for a second, that if she focused enough, she could probably have mesured her pulse only by the pounding rythm in back of her head. Boom, boom, boom. Breathing deeply, she tried to calm herself. You’re okay, you’re not dead, you’re okay. 

It’s hard and after what feels a lot long than the five minutes her clock is showing her, she knows she has to do something before this anxiety coursing in her veins devolves into a panic attack, or maybe she’s already there, she doesn’t know, she never had one before, never had cause to really. Suddenly, for the first time in her journey into mysteries, she deeply misses the safety of her life at the Academy. She wants to feel safe and with that thought, she knows exactly what her next course of action should be. 

She has a plan, it’s very simple, but she feels better for having it. It’s short, only one step, three words. Get to Ward. He is experienced, he knew what to do all along and she felt comforted when she was with him earlier. Get to Ward. Jemma leaves her bunk quietly, not wanting to wake anyone else, not yet. She walks the couple of feet to Grant’s door and hesitates. Should she knock or just open the door? Knowing him, it’s probably locked. Decision made, she raises her arm and as she is about to hit the door with her closed fist, she sees the specialist asleep on one of the couch in the common room. 

Jemma drops her hand and takes a couple of steps in his direction. She only has to say his name once, a soft murmur in the otherwise silent plane, to wake him. At another time, she’d be fascinated by how quickly Grant went from asleep to awake, but not now. The specialist is looking at her, sitting up fast on the couch. 

"Agent Ward, I’m apologize for waking you." Jemma doesn’t know how to continue. Her breathing seems to be better now and she no longer feels like her heart is going to jump out of her chest. "I shoud—"

"It’s okay Agent Simmons. I thought you might have trouble sleeping after what happened." Slowly, as not to startle her, Grant grabs her wrist and pulls her towards him. "Sit down. Want to talk about it?"

Jemma sits beside him, closer than she would under different circumstances. "If you don’t mind I think it’d help. I… I had a nightmare… well, it was so close to what actually happened that I don’t know if it qualifies as a nigtmare but—"

"I assure you, it qualifies anyway." Grant is looking at her, his gaze softer than normal. "Was it the virus or the fall, or maybe the water?"

"It was the fall. We were both falling towards the ocean and the parachute wouldn’t open. I woke up just before the ocean. I felt like my chest was going to explode, my heart was beating so fast I couldn’t breathe. I tried to calm down, but it was impossible until I realized…" Jemma didn’t know how to end that sentence. Now that she was okay, that she wasn’t panicking, she felt that it might be a bit silly to tell agent Ward that she felt safe with him. 

"Until you realized?" Grant proded, wanting to know what she was going to say before she stopped. 

"You made me feel safe." He deserved to know why she woke him and not Fitz or Skye. "Before, in the water and afterwards, when you stayed… I felt safe, protected, like nothing bad could happen to me. I know it’s not—"

"Trust me, it’s completly normal. You went to something traumatic Jemma. You thought you were going to die and you did one of the bravest thing I ever saw." Grant is sincere as he says this and this is why he used her first name. He wants her to understand the he means everyword. In his carreer, he saw trained men not willing to take the same risks she did. Jumping out of the plane to save her team, it’s a selfless act, a traumatic selfless act, but a selfless act nonetheless. "Thank you for saving us all."

"Well, the anti-serum worked so I didn’t save anyone. You had to rescue me instead, so it doesn’t count. I did thank you for saving me though, didn’t I?." Jemma blushed at the use of her first name and also because she was flattered by what Grant was saying. 

"You did thank me. Multiple times. You’re welcome, but I still think what you did count, the intention was there." Grant wants her to understand this. "We know that you’d be willing to die for us. It’s a pretty big statement. Do you think you can go back to sleep now?"

Jemma shakes her head. "I don’t want to be alone."

"You don’t have to be. Come here." Grant puts his feet on the glass table and sits back on the couch. Lightly grabbing Jemma’s arm, he brings her closer. "Put your head on my shoulder." If Skye saw him right now, she wouldn’t believe her eyes, but Grant does know how to comfort someone. 

Jemma raises her feet on the couch, suddenly aware that she is only wearing short and a tank top while Grant is still wearing the clothes he put on after their rescue. "Can I ask you a question before I sleep?"

"Go ahead, I’ll answer it if I can."

"Do you ever get so anxious that it feels like your heart is going to come out of your throat?" Jemma gets that what she felt is normal, it was her first really close call with death, but Grant is a specialist and maybe he knows how to handle it better than she does. 

Grant is silent for a while and just as Jemma figures that she won’t get an answer, he speaks. "I do. I use it to be a better agent."

"How?" She doesn’t get it. The feeling paralysed her. She had trouble getting out of her bunk. "I mean, what did you do the last time it happened?"

Grant takes so long to answer that Jemma is almost asleep when she hears it. "I jumped out of a plane."


	2. Opia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Opia: The ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable.

2\. **Opia** : The ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable.

 

A week later, while the team is on route to rescue Fitz and Ward from their mission in South Ossetia, Jemma is still thinking about that night and the morning that followed. On the plus side, it is distracting her from her newly developped fear of flying and from the fact that she shot a superior officer with the night-night gun, but on the down side, she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it for more than a few minutes and frankly, it's becoming a problem.

 

_Jemma fell asleep on the couch with Ward fully expecting the other agent to be gone when she woke up, but he wasn’t. Jemma could hear his heartbeat and she realized that her head was now resting on his chest. Slowly, she sat up, feeling much better than she thought she would after a night spent on the couch._

_Grant was already staring at her when she looked up, the book he was reading closed, but still in his hand._ _"Good morning." Usually, by that time in the morning he’d be working out, but after Jemma confessed that she didn’t want to be alone, he couldn’t bring himself to leave her._

_"Morning." Jemma started to say something else but was thoroughly distracted by the book he was holding. "Sun Tzu, really Ward, could you be any more cliche?"_

_Jemma was grinning and Grant felt himself responding to her easy smile. "Hey, I’ll have you know that Skye’s the one reading it. It was on the table and I didn’t want to disturb your sleep."_

_"That was very nice. Thank you." Jemma is going to ask if anyone else is awake, but she could tell by the stillness in the Bus that it probably wasn’t the case. Skye, Coulson or Fitz would have spoken out at seeing her sleeping on Grant in the common room. May was either in her bunk or doing her Tai-chi, but since she was the one who understood trauma the best, she wouldn’t begrudge Jemma her need to feel safe._

_"You seem better." Grant voiced, shaking her out of her thought and back into the moment._

_"I am, but I’m also famished." On cue, her stomach growled. They both laughed softly and after patting Grant on the knee like this was a normal situation, Jemma stood up and left towards the kitchen. "Come on Mr. specialist, I’ll make you breakfast as a "Thanks for saving my life" gift."_

_Smiling, Grant followed. "Are you ever going to stop thanking me? It’s starting to get old."_

_"Maybe when we’re even, but don’t work too hard to make it happen anytime soon, please."_

_"I make no promise." Grant said shrugging. "There's only so much I can do." He sat on a stool at the kitchen counter and watched as the biochemist started pulling out different ingredients from the cupboards._

_"What do you think, pancakes or waffles?"_

 

Their morning ended on that note and since then, Jemma noticed that Ward was a lot more friendly towards her. And that was dangerous because while she thought he was attractive before, she always found his behavior to be a source of irritation. Now that he stopped being moody and aloof (with her), Jemma found herself often blushing at his attention, sometimes feeling butterfly in her stomach. It was distracting, but she was a grown woman, a professional and she would get over this little crush.

 

It took only three hours for her resolve to be tested. In that time, they succesfully rescued Fitz and Ward, Coulson debriefed them and now here she was, in the lab with Grant. The specialist’s shirt was off and Jemma was looking at his back where he told her he collided with a ladder. She gently poked around the left side, the bruising of the area already impressive. Moving to face him, she gave her diagnosis. _"_ You’re going to be black and blue for at least a week, but nothing’s broken. You also might want to sleep on your front if you don’t already. _"_ Because picturing Grant sleeping was exactly what she needed. _Oh dear_. _"_ You can put your shirt on. _"_ _Good thinking_.

 

Grant nodded and did as she said, wincing a little when a sore muscle in his shoulder was sollicited in the act. _"_ Thanks Doc. _"_ He made a move to get off the table, but Jemma stopped him with a hand on his chest. He looked at her and caught her staring at her hand, blush high on her cheeks. _That's new._

 

_"_ Wait, I need to check your face. _"_ Grant settled back and satisfied that he wasn’t going to move, Jemma took her hand back. Putting on gloves, she examined the injuries she could see. Grant had a split lip and a nasty bump on the side of the head. Both wounds had stopped bleeding, but she still wanted to take a look.

 

Jemma started working quietly, disinfecting the cuts gently with a small cotton ball. The silence between them stretched, but it was a comfortable kind of quiet. _"_ You can stop thanking me for saving your life now, we’re even. _"_ Grant said. "It took less time than I thought it would." 

 

"Oh, I didn't save your life. It was Skye. She did everything."

 

"Skye's not the one who shot Sitwell." Grant said, watching Jemma's reaction. There's a quiet _Bloody Hell_ that leaves the scientist lips.

 

"Coulson told you." It's not a question.

 

"Coulson told us." Grant confirmed. "And then, he spent two minutes laughing while Fitz and I were staring at him, quite surprised."

 

Jemma dropped her eyes to the floor, embarrassed. "Oh, I... We—" Not knowing what she was going to say, Jemma closed her mouth. Before she could start fidgeting under his stare, she felt Grant's fingers tilting her head up. The biochemist looked up, her gaze holding Grant's, warmth in his eyes.

 

"Thank you, Jemma." Grant murmured, his face close enough that he could kiss her and it's what he does, gentle press of his lips against her cheek. Immediatly after, his eyes lifted back to hers, searching for something. Jemma feels exposed, like all her secrets are out in the open space between them. She's not used to feeling this vulnerable in front of someone else, but she seems to be making a habit of it in front of Grant.

 

"You're welcome." She says, aware that the only way she can make this conversation stops is by accepting his gratitude. She really needs a moment to process the feeling of his mouth on her skin if she wants her professionalism to hold. _Grant's charm should be a weapon_. It's not the first time she's seen it in action, but it's the first time it rings true for her and it's both terrifying and exalting at the same time.  

 

This time, Jemma lets him go when the specialist moves to get up. Squeezing her hand gently, he exists the lab with only a few words that leaves her perplexed. "You know, scientists are tougher than I was led to believe."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it works, all the chapters will be in the same verse. Not all of them will be related to an episode though. The next one will be more with Grant's POV and it will be after the berserker staff. 
> 
> I'm still looking for a beta if someone is willing to take the job. Sometimes, French expression don't translate so well in English.


	3. Mauerbauertraurigkeit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mauerbauertraurigkeit: The inexplicable urge to push people away, even close friends who you really like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank my beta, [Ari](http://agentfitzcarter.tumblr.com/), for her help in making this a much more enjoyable read.

8\. Mauerbauertraurigkeit: The inexplicable urge to push people away, even close friends who you really like.

 

Even if Grant went the next decade of his life without hearing the words Beserker Staff, it’d still be too soon. After the day he’d had, the last thing he wanted was to go to bed, but he wasn't really fit for human company either. He still had in mind the way he blew up at the team earlier; they were only trying to help. He had more control over his rage now, but he’d rather not risk it.

Jemma found him alone at the bar where he’d left Skye a couple of hours before. He waited in the shadows until the young woman left and came back to drown his emotions in alcohol. He usually had a tight leash on his feelings, and not being in control made him uncomfortable.

 

The scientist sat down and ordered a drink from the bartender without saying anything to him. Since their team was formed, Jemma had surprised him the most. She was probably the first person in his life to offer him a gentle touch when he was hurt and to show concern for his well-being.

 

“You shouldn’t be here,” Grant said after several minutes. Jemma wasn’t talking and, while their previous silences had been comfortable, this one felt unsettling for the specialist. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking and it was disturbing.

 

Jemma shrugged. “Don’t mind me. Just feeling like drinking a bit.”

 

“Go drink somewhere else,” Grant snapped, his tone menacing. Jemma stayed calm, but a slight tightening of her shoulders showed her unease. Almost immediately, his sudden rage left him. “I’m sorry; I seem to be insulting everyone I speak to tonight. I’m not meant for company, I think.”  

 

“It’s okay.” They went back to drinking quietly, side by side. Jemma’s elbow pressed into his forearm; the small comfort it gave him was telling. It wasn’t really something he’d had often. “Grant, I—” The way she said his name caught his attention and, instantly, his eyes were on her. “I won’t pretend that I know what you went through, I’d be lying if I said I did. But I’ve been affected by an alien artefact before. Please, let me help you.”

 

Jemma’s earnestness and sincerity were apparent in her voice, and Grant wanted to trust her. “Do you think you can?”

 

Jemma nodded. “I do.” Digging in her pocket, she pulled out a watch and put it on the counter beside Grant’s hand. “I modified it so it would measure your pulse. When the stats are out of the normal range we have on file for you, the watch will alert you, either by a vibration or a beeping sound.”

 

Grant was touched by what Jemma did. She’d taken time out of her own busy schedule to help him, but how it was meant to help him remained a puzzle. "So the watch tells me when I'm angry. It's a bit underwhelming, Simmons." The specialist had developed a taste for high-tech gear that was so alien to him, it might as well be magic. "I had a watch that measured my heartbeat when I was a teenager."

 

Jemma frowned up at him. "Yes, well, if you don't want to take mood stabilisers, you'll have to do the hard work yourself. The watch also works with your blood pressure; I bet you’ve never had that before." She waited until Grant looked thoroughly chastised before explaining further. "Like I said before, the watch beeps or vibrates. It serves two purposes. It can take you out of the mindset you're in when you get angry. It's also a reminder that while the anger might be justified, the rage you're feeling is not totally yours. Then, you’re going to have to make the effort to calm down by yourself."

 

Grant wasn’t against mood stabiliser as a whole, but he really didn’t want to take anything that could cloud his judgement. He'd try Jemma's way first and if it didn’t work, he’d be prepared to revisit the idea. "Fine, let's try it." He gave his wrist to the scientist and Jemma wrapped the bracelet around it, tighter than he'd wear it normally. He had to give her points for style; the timepiece was beautifully crafted, dark leather band as wide as the clock itself. Grant looked at the watch for a minute, seeing his stats appear on the face. He turned around on his barstool to face the other agent. "Now, make me angry."  

 

Jemma bit her lip, uncertainty clearly written in her eyes. "Are you sure? I don't like it when you're mad at me."

 

Grant tried to look as unintimidating as he could, a small smile gracing his face. "Come on, are you a scientist or not? We need to test it." At his taunt, Grant got the expected reaction. Jemma straightened on her seat, determination replacing the doubt on her face. "Plus, I promise I won't stay mad at you."

 

Jemma steeled herself. "What you saw when you were holding the berserker staff, was it about your family?"

 

It took seconds for the anger to rise up in Grant. The memories that had been carefully buried over time were dragged back into the light. It was like pulling at a wound that had yet to scar, that kept oozing blood years after it had happened. He wanted to lash out at Jemma, even though he knew he’d asked for it. It was only the beeping of the watch that stopped him, pulling him away from the souvenirs and back into the moment. Grant breathed deeply, once, twice, three times, letting the air out in a slow stream. Calm settled upon him and the specialist felt the relief deep in his bones. S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn’t have an unreliable asset in the field. Reaching out, he took Jemma's hand in his and squeezed it gently, hoping to convey his gratitude. It seemed they'd been constantly thanking each other over the last month.

 

"I'm going to keep working on it, but it should work."

 

Jemma beamed up at him. "That’s great; I'm glad I could help." She tightened her grip on his hand when Grant tried to take it back. Her palm was smooth against his rougher one. The sensation filled him with a strange kind of courage. Turning back in his seat so he didn’t have to look at her, he started. "I imagine Skye told you that my older brother was a bully. He used to hit my younger brother and me until we could barely stand. It was never bad enough that we had to go to the hospital and our parents didn't care since it was kept well out of the public eye. What I didn't tell her was that sometimes, Christian would make me hurt Thomas. He'd threaten to break my arm or my leg until I was the one bullying him."

 

The self-loathing was perceptible in Grant's voice and Jemma's heart went out for that scared little boy and the strong, but broken, man he had become. "I hope someday you can forgive the child you were. I don't know everything about you Grant, but a man who jumps out of a plane to save a woman who might just kill him when she lets out an electromagnetic pulse isn't the kind of person who would hurt a little boy by choice. I think you're a good man, but hey, that's my opinion. I wasn't there but I think you did your best to survive."

 

Grant waited until she was done before looking her way. Her eyes were already on him and when their gazes meet, the specialist saw that Jemma’s stare was charged with feelings he didn’t want to name yet, not ready to explore his own. He turned back to his drink, signaling the bartender to refill both their glasses. Desperate for a change of subject, Grant said the first thing that came to his mind. “So, how done are you with alien artefacts?”

 

“On a scale of one to ten? Eleven. I am so done—“ Jemma prattled on, Grant only paying minimal attention to what she was saying, just enough to be able to comment when she stopped talking. He let the staccato of her voice wash over him, soothing his chafed nerves. He told himself he didn't miss the weight of her hand in his when she took it away to gesture excitedly as she spoke about her favorite subject. Maybe he was fit for company after all; just select company.  


	4. Vellichor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vellichor: The strange wistfulness of used bookshops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks to Ari for her help in making this better.

5\. Vellichor: The strange wistfulness of used bookshops.

Being back in London was a blast for Jemma. The team had three days off before they were due to report back to the Hub and when she asked Coulson if they could stop in England he’d agreed, albeit after much pleading by Skye, who'd never been. May and Grant didn't care either way and, while he protested that Scotland was superior, Fitz would rather be in the UK than in the US anyday. 

So this was it; her first day off after a long run of missions after missions. Fitz had left earlier with Skye and Coulson to explore some popular attractions and Jemma was glad to leave them to it; she had her own haunts in the city. Just as she was about to exit the plane, Grant caught up with her. He was dressed sensibly for the weather, with dark jeans and a brown leather coat over his white shirt. “Hey, are you going to meet the others?”

Grant squirmed under her gaze and Jemma was taken aback; it was the first sign of unease she’d ever seen on the specialist. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I thought I’d accompany you.”

“Yes, of course. I don’t know if it’s going to be much fun for you, but you’re welcome to tag along.”

The pair walked down the ramp and quickly made their way to the nearest bus stop. The familiar accent spoken by the other passengers wrapped itself around Jemma like a comfortable blanket and some of the stress she was carrying left her. It was nice to be home. Their first stop was a little tea parlour she’d found on her first trip to London; it was family owned, very casual and they had her favorite tea, which was impossible to find in the States.

Grant looked around the quiet restaurant critically before grabbing a table, choosing it so that his back would be against the wall and his eyes could follow everything without having to move. His strategic choice made Jemma smile; man and specialist were inseparable in Grant. 

They had tea with blueberry scones that tasted like home for Jemma, and the scientist bought two boxes of Earl Grey before they left. Grant had a good time; he was getting to know his fellow agent more and more everyday. He’d surprised himself that morning when he’d asked to join her; it was a decision made on a whim, but he didn’t regret his impulse. “Where to now?” he asked as they walked, side by side, on the busy sidewalk.

“There’s a gallery three or four streets ahead. They usually have an amazing collection of young talents on display. Then two doors down, there’s this little shop with a great selection of clothes and after that, I usually visit this old bookshop. It has an impressive variety of second-hand books.” Grant smiled through her planning. He enjoyed seeing Jemma so carefree and passionate; the last missions had been tough on their team. The scientist, catching Grant’s grin, blushed, suddenly self-conscious. “Was there something you’d like us to do?”

“No. Nothing.” They resumed walking. At the gallery, Jemma bought a painting that caught her fancy and had it shipped back to her quarters at S.H.I.E.L.D. The sun was out and it was a beautiful day in London. It was actually turning out to be Jemma’s best day in a long time. She didn’t find anything she’d wear at their next stop and by the time they’d made their way to the bookshop, their day was almost over. They’d stopped at a little cafe in between and each got a sandwich to eat as they continued their stroll.

All in all, it was the perfect relaxing day and it all went to hell in minutes. After the busy street of the capital, the bookstore felt like an oasis of peace. With its musty smell of old books and its comfortable silence, the place always brought Jemma a sense of serenity. The shopkeeper was an old man who acknowledged their entry with a small wave and turned back to his tagging.

Jemma started wandering the aisle, browsing for anything that might attract her attention. When the bell signalling the entrance of new customers rang three times in less than a minute, she felt Grant tense next to her. A gun appeared in his hand and, had she blinked, she would have completely missed the move he made to get it from a holster beneath his coat.

The specialist seized Jemma’s shoulders and looked right into her eyes. “Three men just entered. There’s probably a couple of guys outside watching the exit. They’re wearing normal clothes, but two of them just touched the com units in their ears.” Grant released his grip on her. “Follow me, quietly.”

They made their way slowly between the bookshelves, Grant closely monitoring the progress of their pursuers; they were rapidly gaining on the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. “I’m going to take out the two that are separating us from the door. You stay right here.” Grant laid out his plan and Jemma nodded immediately. This was his specialty. “When I’m done, I’ll signal for you and when I do, you run straight for the door, understood?”

“Understood.”

Grant took care of his targets quickly and silently. Just as he was about to alert Jemma, a motion to his left had him moving in time to avoid a hit from a club to the back of the head. Instead, his shoulder caught the brunt of the collision and Grant felt the bone pop out of its socket, gun leaving his hand. With only one arm in working order, it was more difficult to dispose of the third man. In the end, the specialist’s years of experience triumphed over his assailant's brute strength. After taking back his gun and holstering it, Grant grabbed the man’s com and patted him down until he found a cellphone and a wallet, both of which he also nabbed. Motioning for Jemma to join him, Grant took advantage of the few seconds he had to wait for her by putting the communication device in his ear. He could hear the remaining men talking, two of them growing more and more panicked by the lack of response from the rest of their team.

Grant felt his blood boil as he heard them talking about grabbing the little scientist and how the bitch would help them fix the formula. Centipede’s people were growing desperate if they thought they could take Jemma in broad daylight while he was with her. It was clear, though, that they had believed she would be alone in her wandering. Deep scowl on his face and watch vibrating on his wrist, he left Jemma with a curt “stay here.” Moving with stealth, Grant quickly dispatched the first man waiting by the door thanks to the element of surprise. The second took more effort, the pain in his dislocated shoulder making him dizzy. He had to work for it and the other man successfully landed a few punches on Grant, a particularly hard one splitting his brow. Blood in his eye, already thin patience growing even thinner, Grant bent the Centipede soldier over and brought his knee up, hitting him directly in the face. The man dropped instantly, unconscious .

Seeing no movement in his surroundings, Grant went back for Jemma. “Come on, we have to move fast. Keep walking and try to signal for a cab as soon as you see one.”

“But your shoulder—“

“It’ll have to wait until we’re safe.”

Jemma protested. “Give me a minute to set it, and then we’ll go as fast as you want.” Seeing the resistance in his eyes, Jemma pushed. “You’ll be far more useful if you can fight with both arms.”

Grant relented. “Make it fast.” The specialist braced himself when Jemma took hold of his arm.

“Breathe,” she cautioned; she didn’t wait until he was done filling his lungs before pushing his shoulder back into place.

Grant bore the pain with an impressive stoicism, expecting it to hurt exactly as much as it did. “Thanks. Now move.” Putting his good arm around Jemma’s waist, he spurred her forwards. Three streets later, they finally caught sight of a cab and, with a stroke of luck, the driver stopped to let them in.

“Call Fitz. Tell them to meet us back at the Bus now. I want us to be in the air as soon as possible.” Jemma nodded and took out her cellphone to do as ordered. Grant did the same, calling May so that she’d prepare the plane for take off.

After fielding a lot of questions from their teammates by promising to answer everything in person, they hung up their phones. “Do you know what they wanted?” Jemma asked. “Fitz said they didn’t see anything suspicious today.”

“You, they wanted you,” Grant stated. “They were Centipede. They’re still having problems with their formula.”

“I see.” Shuffling to the left on the cab’s backseat, Jemma leaned into Grant, seeking comfort. “I need to put sutures in your brow when we’re back on the plane.”

Grant kissed the top of her head, his only answer to her concern.

Hours later back on the Bus, once they’d been debriefed and the whole team had reassured themselves that everyone was alright, they could finally relax. Jemma was sitting in the common room with Grant. The specialist’s arm was in a sling and he bore a new set of stitches above his left eyebrow. They’d played cards with Fitz and Skye before they’d both had enough of losing and left to get a snack in the kitchen. Jemma and Grant kept playing, and after her latest victory, Jemma expressed a thought she’d had while she was fixing his face. "There's no way I'm going anywhere unaccompanied until Centipede is caught, is there?" Grant's glare settling upon her instantly was all the answer she really needed. The sudden beeping of his watch was an unexpected bonus. While the organization’s soldiers were still after her, the specialist had no intention of letting Jemma go anywhere without him. She handed him the deck. "That's what I thought. Your turn to deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is my favorite chapter for now. Let me know what you thought.


	5. Altschmerz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 22\. Altschmerz: Weariness with the same old issues that you’ve always had – the same boring flaws and anxieties that you’ve been gnawing on for years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was made a lot better by Ari. Thank you for going back and fixing my mistakes. :)

22\. Altschmerz: Weariness with the same old issues that you’ve always had – the same boring flaws and anxieties that you’ve been gnawing on for years.

 

After the third kidnapping attempt on her in two months, Jemma had had enough. Every time they grabbed her she tried to resist, but since she wasn't trained to fight, her resistance seemed futile. So that was it; she was finally ready to admit defeat and to learn how to defend herself. Luckily for her, she had access to the perfect teacher right there on the Bus. Less lucky for him, while she had always been a quick learner where science was concerned, she’d been pretty much hopeless at anything involving body co-ordination.

 

Jemma waited for a chance to catch Grant alone. It wasn’t hard; they were both morning people and most days the specialist started his day by working out alone before Skye joined him. At the same time, the scientist was either eating breakfast or working away in the lab. This particular morning, before she approached him, Jemma observed the specialist’s technique. Grant was standing close to the punching bag, his wrapped hands pounding a heavy rhythm against it. He was moving his whole body with each precise hit, fist striking the leather heavily. It was quite fascinating, and Jemma lost herself in her observations until Grant stopped his movements and cleared his throat pointedly. “Do you want something?”

 

Standing in the open doorway of the lab, Jemma stepped closer. She waited until the specialist looked her way before speaking. “Teach me how to fight.” Grant’s reaction was immediate. She spotted the refusal in his eyes, but before he could say no, Jemma continued. “Please, I’m tired of playing damsel in distress every time someone tries to take me. I want to be able to stop them.”

 

“You don’t need to, that’s why I’m here.” For Grant, that would be the end of the conversation. He didn’t mind teaching Skye since the young woman wanted to become an operative for S.H.I.E.L.D., but Jemma was already an agent. If she tried to hit her assailant, they’d only hurt her to subdue her and Grant really didn’t want to see the biochemist hurt. Somehow, Jemma had become important to him over the last weeks. He wanted her to be safe, always.

 

“Grant, be reasonable; you can’t always be with me,” Grant shot her a look that suggested otherwise; Jemma sighed. “Maybe you’ll stay with me until we’re done with Centipede, but a year or five from now, I could be in the same situation without you there to save me.”

 

Jemma had a point, and while Grant hoped she never had to defend herself, he also knew it was wishful thinking to pretend that she’d always be spared from the fights the team got into. He reminded himself that teaching her self-defence wouldn’t make her more of a target than she already was. He’d just have to make sure it didn’t make her more reckless. Plus, he’d thought recently  that it would be better if Jemma and Fitz could escape from danger quicker. Decision made, Grant nodded. “Fine; you win. I’ll set everything up tomorrow and we’ll start.”

 

Grant thought it was cute when Jemma fist pumped. She also hugged him tightly before returning to the lab. The specialist went back to his punching, his last thought on the subject for the morning being that Jemma might not like the training that she got.

 

The next morning, Grant was proven right. He stood with Jemma and Fitz while the scientists stared disdainfully at the team’s treadmill. Jemma had used it last to monitor Coulson’s health, and then she and Fitz had stashed it somewhere out of view. Grant had gotten it from its hiding place and had set it up.

 

Grant clapped his hands, bringing Fitzsimmons’ attention back to him. “Yesterday, Jemma told me she wanted to learn to defend herself.” Fitz seemed surprised to learn that, and Grant filed the information away for later. “I agreed and thought that both of you could use a little more training. Coulson approved of my assessment."

 

"But why the treadmill?" The question came from Fitz.

 

"Well, you're not operatives and my goal isn't to change that," Grant explained. "What I want is for you to be able to get to safety as quickly as possible. If someone comes at you, you run in the opposite direction. I'm going to teach you how to get away from an assailant, and when you can do that successfully, I'll see about adding some combat training."

 

Fitz nodded, always the practical mind. He didn't seem much happier than Jemma about the treadmill, but at least he wasn't glaring like she was.

 

"That's not what we agreed on yesterday," Jemma grumbled.

 

"Actually, I never said what I agreed on. Just that I would train you," Grant pointed out. He turned to where a chart was taped to the wall. "I want you to run five miles three times a week for the next three weeks. Write your time, we'll check the progress and I'll re-evaluate then. It'll get your endurance up for now. Twice a week, we'll practice different moves to throw off an opponent. Any questions?"

 

There were none so Fitz left, saying he'd start running tomorrow. Jemma watched him go and turned back to Grant. "We're starting now." She'd been determined to start training as soon as possible and, even if what the specialist proposed wasn't what she had in mind, it was better than nothing. They worked side by side to place mats on the floor. "You know, I really wanted to learn how to fight," Jemma said, disappointment clear in her voice.

 

"Tell you what: you successfully shake me off while we practice, we'll go straight to hand-to-hand combat,” Grant offered.

 

Jemma smiled. "Deal."

 

They spent the next twenty minutes practicing different ways to get away from an attacker. Grant covered a lot of ground, showing her multiple moves but never letting her execute any of them. Jemma felt like she was drowning in new information. "Stop. You have to slow down."

 

Grant nodded. "You’re right, I've given you enough for today. Now, we have twenty minutes to practice what I've shown you." The first couple of wrist holds were easy enough to break away from, Grant not using all of his strength, just wanting Jemma to memorise the movements. "Good. Now, I'm giving you three chances to get away from me. If you can, we'll go to the next step."

 

Jemma felt confident that she could do it until Grant backed her up against the wall, arms bracketing her head, his towering body looming over hers. She swallowed, throat suddenly very dry. Jemma breathed deeply before dropping her weight like the specialist told her. Quickly, she came back up diagonally only to find that Grant had moved with her and was now closer than before.

 

"Again," Grant prompted. Her second attempt went exactly the same way as the first, except she came up the other side. "You have to be faster. Again."

 

Jemma was frustrated. Grant was going to win and she was starting to see things from his perspective. The specialist had stopped all of her efforts with ease. He was still standing over her, waiting for her next move, and Jemma decided to try one last thing. She rose to her tiptoes and brought her mouth to his. It was something she'd wanted to do for at least a month now, but she'd resisted until now. Grant's lips moved against hers, deepening the kiss. The scientist lost herself in the embrace.

 

It took Jemma a moment to remember what she’d intended to do, but as soon as she did, she moved her leg behind his and pushed his shoulder with all of her strength, hoping that Grant would fall down. To her dismay, the specialist barely budged, her shove having absolutely no impact.

 

Grant chuckled, moving away from their kiss. "Nice try, Simmons. I think we'll keep working on this." Jemma shrugged in his arms and Grant resumed their previous activity, crashing his mouth to hers.

 

Jemma refused to tell Grant that she didn't mind losing if this was the reward she got. She had the feeling he wouldn't appreciate her sass at this moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a kiss! What did you think?


	6. Jouska

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9\. Jouska: A hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play out in your head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With Ari's help, this has become my favorite chapter yet. I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please let me know what you think.

9\. Jouska: A hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play out in your head.

 

It was Coulson calling for a meeting that ended the kissed they’d shared. The team had been summoned to the Sandbox, the scientists there hoping to discuss different projects with FitzSimmons. Coulson and May had wanted to take that opportunity to meet with the Top Brass. They’d figured it was time to work on a new threat assessment for Centipede and Grant agreed. The group was becoming a real thorn in the side of S.H.I.E.L.D, and their continued attempts to get their hands on Simmons were pissing off every member of their team.

 

The Bus had taken off immediately and, two days after their arrival at the base, Grant and Jemma still hadn't had a moment to discuss what had transpired between them. The biochemist had been busy, leaving the lab only to eat and sleep, but when she had a moment to think, her thoughts kept bringing her back to that kiss. In her defense, it had been a good kiss. The one thing that bothered her about it was that they hadn't been able to talk, and now she couldn't help but imagine different scenarios of how that conversation would have played out.

 

In the best one, Grant took her in his arms and told her that they would talk later before kissing her again; Jemma blamed that one on her lack of sleep. After all, she'd been working on two hours of shut-eye when those particular images came to mind. The worst conversations were those where the specialist took his time to explain with every detail why a relationship between them would be a bad idea. It was all very reasonable and Jemma knew that the arguments he expressed were her own insecurities. She and Grant were developing a real friendship; asking for more could ruin that. There was also the team to consider: Coulson and company had to be able to trust Jemma and Grant to be professionals.

 

After another practically sleepless night, Jemma had resolved to find Grant as soon as she was done with her tests in the lab. When her last experiment was a success, she gave the results to the analyst in charge and went in search of their specialist.

 

She found Grant in the gym, sparring with an agent she’d never met before. The other combatant was a tall, blonde, and very beautiful woman. She was also an amazing fighter, moving graciously on the mats, wielding her staves with an impressive accuracy. Jemma felt a pang of what she assumed was jealousy, but she pushed it down quickly. She reminded herself that she had no reason to be jealous: firstly because there was nothing between her and Grant yet, and secondly because she knew the specialist was extremely loyal.

 

Jemma observed the agents from her position in the shadows, enjoying the way they challenged each other. Their bodies moved in sync, responding quickly to parry or strike, each of them holding their own against the other. Entranced, Jemma stepped forward to get closer to the action. The movement caught Grant’s attention and the female agent took advantage of his distraction. She knocked him to the ground with two blows before turning her gaze to the scientist.

 

Not yet bothering with introductions, Jemma rushed to Grant’s side. The specialist was sitting on the ground, rubbing his leg where he’d received the hardest hit. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have moved. Are you okay?” She bent down and offered the specialist her hand to pull him up. Grant grabbed it and climbed back to his feet.

 

“No harm done. Bobbi hits like a girl,” Grant teased, his hand still holding Jemma’s. He squeezed it lightly, hoping to convey that he was all right. His sparring partner glared at him for a second before smiling.

 

“I am a girl,” Bobbi said shrugging. “You, on the other hand, have no such excuse.”

 

Grant laughed and made the introductions. “Jemma, this is Barbara Morse, she’s one of S.H.I.E.L.D’s best operatives. Bobbi, this is Jemma Simmons, she’s a member of Coulson’s team and a genius biochemist.”  

 

The women shook hands. “Agent Simmons, it's nice to meet you.”

 

“You too, Agent Morse,” Jemma replied. “I really like your combat style. You wouldn’t object to teaching me, would you?” Grant scowled and the scientist laughed. “Oh, relax, I’m kidding, I’d knock myself out if I had to use one of those,” she said, gesturing towards one of the staves in Bobbi’s hand.

 

“That’s too bad,” Bobbi remarked. “If you ever change your mind, tell Grant to give me a call. I’d be happy to train you.”

 

“If I ever graduate from running, I’ll let you know,” Jemma sassed and Grant chuckled softly next to her. “If you don’t mind, I need to borrow Agent Ward.”

 

Bobbi waved towards the door. “No, please, go ahead. We were done here.”

 

“Thank you. Again, it was nice to meet you.”

 

Bobbi smiled. “My pleasure. I’ll see you next time, Ward.”

 

Grant nodded and followed Jemma out the door. They walked down the hall, Jemma trying a few doors along the way before finally finding one that was unlocked. It was a conference room and, lucky for them, it was empty. Jemma entered first, Grant closing and locking the door behind them. There were a lot of things the scientist wanted to say, but she couldn't remember any of them.

 

"How’ve you been?" Grant broke the silence. Usually, their quiet moments were peaceful and uncomplicated, but their kiss had changed things, disturbed the equilibrium. "I've tried to catch you a couple of times, but you were always busy."

 

"I'm okay, just tired. It's been two full days, I‘ve been stuck in the lab for most of it, and after we talk, I'm going to sleep for at least twelve hours." Jemma had started pacing while she was talking, her nervousness showing. "We haven't had a chance to speak since we kissed," she said, looking directly at Grant.

 

The specialist closed the distance between them, stopping Jemma's back and forth. "You're right," Grant admitted. "But I can think of something else we haven't had a chance to do." He lifted his hands, caressing her cheek with one, the other finding its way around her waist. His movements were slow, leaving Jemma with ample opportunity to step away, but she found she didn't want to. "I'm going to kiss you now."

 

Jemma nodded quickly and raised herself on her tiptoes to meet him halfway. She wrapped her arms around his neck and Grant brought her closer with his grip on her hip. Her body was fused with his and their kiss was as passionate as the one they'd shared on the plane. It was almost too easy for Jemma to get lost in the moment.

"We still need to talk," Jemma said, breaking the kiss only when she was short of breath.

 

Grant shrugged. "Okay. I'm listening."

 

"Well, I wanted to know if you regretted our kiss, because I don't. But since you just did it again, I’ll assume that it's a moot point." Jemma ran her hand through her hair, frustrated with the unknown between them. "And do you want to keep kissing me?"

 

"I'd very much like to, yes." Grant dropped a kiss on her forehead, wanting to ease Jemma's irritation. "Let me simplify this; I'd like to take you out on a date the next time we have an evening off. In the meantime, I want to keep spending time with you and kiss you whenever I get the chance. Do you object to any of those things?"

 

Jemma shook her head. "No. No objections. I’d like that too." She smiled up at Grant.

 

“Good,” the specialist said before dropping a brief kiss on her lips. “Go to bed; I’ll wake you if we have to leave.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to get back into writing after a long pause and after binge watching Agent of Shield, I really wanted to see more being written with Ward and Simmons as a pairing. I found [that article](http://iheartintelligence.com/2015/06/07/23-new-words-for-emotions-that-we-all-feel-but-cant-explain/) on tumblr and I wanted to write these emotions. So this will be 23 chapters, all in the same verse.


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